Page 16 of In Too Deep

Mom was an orphan. My dad says that her mom left her at the age of two at the orphanage for kids. My poor mom had gone from place to place, taken in by foster families until they found her a permanent home, but that ended up being a shit show. It seemed they were grooming her to be a prostitute to make money for them, and by the time she realized it, she got out as quickly as she could, managing to steal money that she knew they hid under their bed.

It was then that she decided to make her own way in life and traveled until she found a place of her own. That was when she met my father.

Because she was desperate to have her own family, they got married when my mom was twenty and got pregnant with me right away.

My memory of her is somewhat faded as I was only three when she died. My dad says she was in a car accident. She was on her way to Walmart to get ingredients for dinner when a drunk driver hit her face-on, killing her instantly.

My dad doesn’t like to talk about her or his past much, so sometimes I find myself speaking about her to Spanner, who’s known my dad for years. Spanner is the sergeant at arms. Spanner is his road name, but his birth name is Joe.

Joe says the day my mother died was the day my father died along with her. He isn’t the same man anymore. He lost the love of his life, and since then, he hasn’t cared what happened to him or anyone else. I hope that doesn’t include me, but some days, I wonder. Joe says that my dad went to a very dark place at the time, and they didn’t think he would get through it. That’s probably when the club changed, and my father led them in a different direction. One that has seen them on the news or in jail.

My dad thinks I’m naïve, and I don’t know what happens at the club. But I do. I know he deals in illegal weapons and has a connection with drugs that are on our streets. I know some bad shit goes down when I see them having meetings in the room they call Church with men who look rich in their expensive Armani suits. Or when they take secret phone calls that later have them all on their bikes and away for a few nights.

I don’t know why he insists on hiding this information from me. I see the way they party, the cocaine they have at their club parties, packaged in non-labeled bags. Drugs that are packaged that way can’t be bought on the street. But I don’t question him. Even if I did, he would tell me it’s none of my business.

Coming back to the present, my eyes roam over Blake’s body one last time before I kneel down to search under the bed for my underwear.

“Ah, there it is,” I whisper, finding my black thong. Quickly sliding them up my legs, I pull down the black jean skirt and adjust my white Rolling Stones T-shirt I wore last night.

Blake starts snoring again, and I look down at him one last time before tiptoeing to his bedroom door, not wanting to wake him.

It’s still early, and no one should be up at this hour of the morning, considering how hard they partied last night. But that doesn’t stop me from quietly unlocking the bedroom door and peeking from left to right before I take the chance to step out.

With very quiet steps, I make my way down the hall to the back of the clubhouse, where my dad created my own wing.

Well, that’s what he calls it. I wouldn’t exactly use that word. However, I do have my own bedroom and television area. And, of course, my very own bathroom.

Just as I reach my door, I hear Mikki’s sly voice. “Hey there, darlin’, does your daddy know you’re sneaking out at night?”

Whipping around to face him, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I don’t trust him. He’s never actually tried anything other than trying to steal a kiss here and there, but I don’t like the way he looks at me or accidentally touches me. His eyes cover my body from head to toe in a revolting way. He’s as old as my father and is his VP, but that doesn’t stop him from making it known that he wants me.

Mikki and my dad are old friends. They go way back. When my dad created the RBMC, Mikki was brought in as his VP. He insists on me calling him Uncle Mikki even though he’s not my uncle through blood. My dad insists on me calling him that too.

The times I’m forced to kiss him on his cheek or hug him, his hands always manage to touch my ass or breast, and he always laughs it off when I yell at him.

“What do you want, Mikki?” I ask, noticing his eyes are on my bare legs.Disgusting.His long gray hair looks disheveled,and his black shirt is open to his navel, revealing his bare chest, which is full of gray hair. His shirt shows signs of puke but not the fresh kind, the kind that would have happened last night, and he chose to sleep in it.

What’s he doing down this side of the hall anyway? His room is on the other side of the clubhouse.

He takes a couple of steps closer to me, and my body is on high alert. I immediately step back, my head hitting the back of my bedroom door.

I don’t like being alone with him, especially when everyone is still asleep.

“Nothing much, sugar,” he replies in a drawl. He steps closer, and his face is close to mine. He runs his index finger down my cheek, and I want to scream.

“Don’t, Mikki,” I warn, not liking the way his eyes are dilated.Has he taken drugs this morning, or is he still high from last night?

“Give your uncle a kiss,” he asks, stepping in closer once again. Not able to move, his body touches mine, and bile rises to the back of my throat. I want to yell at him to get the fuck away from me, but that would only wake up the others, and I don’t need them to see me sneaking back to my room. It would only raise questions, and I can’t afford for them to find out about Blake and me.

I’m a grown woman, and as my dad said, I can sleep with whoever I want, but not one of his members. But something tells me Mikki knows more than he’s letting on.

“No,” I growl. “Get the fuck away from me,” I warn, hissing at him.

“Mm… sugar. You know something? Seeing you hiss like that only makes me want you the fuck more.”

“If my dad hears the way you’re talking to me, he will kill you.”

He smirks, showing off his yellow teeth, making me want to throw up all over him.

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